un--for which they blamed their
own want of thoughtfulness in leaving the pocketbook in my care--that
they had insisted on my father's removing from our lonely home to
a cottage on their land, which we were to inhabit rent free. The
bank-notes that I had saved were given to me to buy furniture with, in
place of the things that the thieves had broken. These pleasant tidings
assisted so greatly in promoting my recovery, that I was soon able
to relate to my friends at the farmhouse the particulars that I have
written here. They were all surprised and interested, but no one, as I
thought, listened to me with such breathless attention as the farmer's
eldest son. Mrs. Knifton noticed this too, and began to make jokes about
it, in her light-hearted way, as soon as we were alone. I thought little
of her jesting at the time; but when I got well, and we went to live
at our new home, "the young farmer," as he was called in our parts,
constantly came to see us, and constantly managed to meet me out of
doors. I had my share of vanity, like other young women, and I began
to think of Mrs. Knifton's jokes with some attention. To be brief, the
young farmer managed one Sunday--I never could tell how--to lose his way
with me in returning from church, and before we found out the right road
home again he had asked me to be his wife.

His relations did all they could to keep us asunder and break off
the match, thinking a poor stonemason's daughter no fit wife for a
prosperous yeoman. But the farmer was too obstinate for them. He had one
form of answer to all their objections. "A man, if he is worth the name,
marries according to his own notions, and to please himself," he used
to say. "My notion is, that when I take a wife I am placing my character
and my happiness--the most precious things I have to trust--in one
woman's care. The woman I mean to marry had a small charge confided to
her care, and showed herself worthy of it at the risk of her life. That
is proof enough for me that she is worthy of the greatest charge I can
put into her hands. Rank and riches are fine things, but the certainty
of getting a good wife is something better still. I'm of age, I know my
own mind, and I mean to marry the stone-mason's daughter."

And he did marry me. Whether I proved myself worthy or not of his good
opinion is a question which I must leave you to ask my husband. All
that I had to relate about myself and my doings is now told. Whatever
interest my